


The Outcasts

by Hello_Spikey



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-22
Updated: 2010-11-22
Packaged: 2019-09-12 20:04:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16878336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hello_Spikey/pseuds/Hello_Spikey
Summary: Lilah is the liaison between Angel and the Senior Partners, but she doesn't have anyone onherside.





	The Outcasts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cafedemonde](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=cafedemonde).



> This is for **cafedemonde** who requested:
> 
> _Can I have a fic with Spike/Lilah fic where Lilah is the liaison and her head isn't so detachable :-) Oh and memory loss must play a part in it._
> 
> Spike/Lilah, memory loss and it almost has a plot! I'm so proud! Heh. Only a month late, too. I continue to suck. But there! October challenges done. On to November!

“So that loser Lindsey has been spotted around town.” Lilah casually dropped a file folder on Angel’s desk before turning and leaning against it. “He tried to contact me. Do you think I should meet with him, maybe string him along to find out what useless plan he has?”

Angel pushed the file folder off the desk. “We’re in the middle of a meeting, here, Lilah. You weren’t invited.”

The folder hit the floor amidst such silence that its soft sound was distinct. Lilah gaped, then looked to Gunn, who shrugged, and Wesley, who kept his gaze focused on a point somewhere to the left of her shoulder and had no expression at all.

“Fine,” Lilah said, snatching up the folder. “It’s your funeral.”

Spike was leaning against the receptionist’s desk, arms crossed and looking knowingly at her as she stormed out of Angel’s office.

“So the boys still won’t let you play in their sand box, will they?”

“What are you even doing here?” she snapped back.

Spike shrugged. “Buy a bloke a drink?”

“You aren’t my type.” Lilah turned her back on the vampire, expecting that to be the end of the conversation.

But Spike slipped into step beside her. “And what is your type, then? It sure isn’t tall dark and brooding.”

“Gainfully employed.”

Spike gasped and clutched his chest as though struck by a mortal wound.

Lilah found herself smiling despite herself. “You’re cute, but I’ve got a weasel of an ex-co-worker to investigate. Without help, apparently.”

Spike stepped in front of her. “I could be help.”

Lilah smirked, but he looked so sincerely eager, she thought better of dismissing him. “Oh, all right. Come on, I could use a liquid lunch.”

Her heels echoed purposefully against the tiles as she strode forward. It was a sound that wrapped around her like armor. The sound of decision and action.

Spike followed her like a shadow right into the passenger seat of her company car.

Lilah tossed her file folder into his lap. “This interests you, anyway. Remember that package you received?”

“How could I forget being turned into a real boy?”

Spike fished the glossy photograph out just as Lilah said, “I don’t know how, but that’s the guy who arranged it.”

“If his address is in here, I’ll go give him a big wet kiss, but I somehow suspect that’s not your plan.”

Lilah raised one shoulder, keeping her eyes on the road. “The last thing I remember about Lindsey was him making a spectacular exit from Wolfram and Hart, going over to the side of good.”

“Sounds to me like he’s still at it. Re-solidifying the champion of the right and good and all.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so. He’s up to something. Something to do with Angel. What is it about that guy that people can’t get over him?” She shook her head. “There must be something I missed – something in the time they took from my memory. Because if Lindsey left as I remember, it makes no sense at all that he’s back.”

When she glanced his way again, Spike was leaning casually against the passenger door, regarding her thoughtfully.

“What?” she demanded.

“Sucks, don’t it, having your life jerked around by higher powers?”

“You have no idea,” she sighed, then grimaced with a half-shrug, acknowledging that he did, in fact, have an idea. They had arrived at the bar and she pulled into a parking space. “Angel clearly doesn’t think this is important, but no one pulls off a magic trick like that for no reason.”

“So you need to get close to wonder-boy here.” Spike waved the folder. “And since he has some sort of interest in yours truly, we’re already halfway in his pocket.” Spike grinned wolfishly.

Lilah grinned back, picking her purse up from between them. Maybe this was going to be easier than she thought.

They settled at the bar and Lilah ordered a martini. “What about you?” She appraised the vampire carefully. Sometimes people who looked like they were hiding nothing were the ones you had to be most careful of. “Why would you help?”

Spike’s lashes flicked down. “Have you seen your legs lately?”

Lilah uncrossed and re-crossed the limbs in question. “You’re willing to follow me on this, when Angel just about threw me out for bringing it up, because you like my legs?”

“Well, the rest of you is a tall glass of gorgeous, too.” Spike curled his tongue to touch his upper lip in an impish expression of appreciation.

“Not buying it.”

“Call it a hunch. If Peaches is so against it, it must be good. What about you, love? Why are you bent on helping Angel despite himself?”

“It’s my job. I’m his liaison. No more Angel, no more Lilah. Wolfram and Hart doesn’t need to resurrect lawyers; they have enough.”

“Not going to convince me you’re all sweetness and light, secretly fighting for goodness and puppies?”

She considered him, the way he seemed so relaxed and casual, but was watching her every motion closely. “You’re not that stupid.”

Spike winked. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”

“I told you: not my type.”

“I bet I could be.” Spike leaned back. “Let me guess – you’re into rich, powerful men who fall worshiping at your Manolo Blahniks.”

“Hardly.”

The drinks arrived and she gratefully took up her martini, relaxing a bit at the smell of vermouth and vodka. For some reason, Wesley was on her mind. Which didn’t make sense. He wasn’t her type, either. Though there was something about him, this edge… and it irritated her no end how he never looked at her. And she had no dating prospects. Probably never would again. Damn, being owned by your job really bit.

Spike was close enough she could smell the leather of his coat. He ducked his head conspiratorially. “Well, you are my type. Don’t know why that lot treats you so horridly. You speak your mind. You call Angel an idiot when he’s being one, and he needs as much of that as he can get. Sure, you work for the evil overlords, but so do they. Bunch of hypocrites.”

“Thanks,” she said, and meant it. She touched her martini glass to his whiskey tumbler.

The drank in companionable silence. And then Spike stood, stepping behind her, he brushed the hair back from her ear. “Or maybe your type is someone just a bit… rough.”

She shivered as his breath puffed against her neck with the last word. He chuckled, a sound rich with dirty promises.

She turned to face him and he didn’t back up a bit, his jeans rubbing against her nylons. “You’re more what I’d call ‘dated’ than ‘rough’.”

He knocked her knees apart and stepped between them. “I can be whatever you want me to be, and I won’t even ask you to respect me in the morning.”

“That’s the best offer I’ve had since I died, but I don’t do vampires.”

His nose passed gently up the curve of her jaw, a pleasant, smooth touch. “Why is that?”

Lilah blinked. “Honestly, I can’t remember.”

He gasped in shock when she grabbed him hard by the scruff and pulled him roughly away, but that quickly melted into a grin. Oh yes, everyone had their kinks. Lilah liked a little struggle and fight, herself. She let her fingernails dig in a little before she let go. Spike’s eyes were full of filthy promises.

“I think I’m due an afternoon off.” She drained her martini. “Let’s go.”

She didn’t have to look to see if he was following. This was going to be an excellent partnership. They had been the outcasts, struggling to join the team and simultaneously unheeded as they pointed out all the obvious dangers. But the best solution to being outside was to make yourself a new inside. She turned to Spike as she reached the car and he crushed her against the door, kissing her hard.

She gasped, turned on as hell at the hard feel of him. He smiled smugly. She reached behind her to lift the door latch, "Come in," she said.

"Said the spider to the fly," he responded, but like it was the tastiest invitation he'd heard in a long time.

***

Spike looked up as a shadow fell over his drink, and covered his slowly spreading smile with his hand as he recognized the man standing before him.

“Hey, Spike, get any interesting mail lately?”

Spike finished his drink and set it down. Game on.


End file.
